The Wichita Witch
by Scarlett Wilde
Summary: 2008 - Abandoned. Sam receieves an email asking for help. Dean's not so keen but he goes anyway. PWP.
1. Chapter 1

Title: The Wichita Witch

**Title: **The Wichita Witch  
**Rating: **R (language, smut content, freaky weirdness, etc)  
**Warnings:** None at the moment, other than utter silliness.  
**Fandom: **Supernatural  
**Disclaimer: **I don't own any of the Supernatural franchise, I just wish I did. I'm not making any money from this story, just lots of dirty washing.  
**Summary: **Oh heck, it's just for smutty fun, and not meant to be taken seriously. Oh, and technically some things might not be accurate, but if I needed a dead character for my story – I resurrect them, but only cause I have that fictional power.  
**Pairing**: Sam/OFC (Rachel) at times, Dean/OFC (Tareena/Rina(montecarlogurl87)) at others, with a little John/OFC (Amy(Aimsame)) added in for good measure.  
**Spoilers:** None, as you guys are way in front of me already.  
**Feedback: **as long as it's adoring praise, yes please…if you just want to diss my ass, don't bother. Seriously though, no nits or shreds for this fic – it's just a silly bit of fun for some lovely friends  
**Written:** 2008

**Author's Notes: **It's something spurned in my head from a marathon season one and season two DVD session – how numb can your butt go before you need medical help? The gag reel finally did it though, that for me was kinda a highlight. We won't even mention the hours of pure YouTubey fun, watching the goofy SN fanvids – you gotta check out the drinking game vids (that's an order not a request LOL). Oh, and it's not been beta'd.

**Chapter 1:-**

Dean checked the road sign. Route 66. Corny but true. They were on a hunt, as always. But this one was different, somewhat sketchy, and turning out to be an awful lot clichéd as of this moment. They'd been picking up messages via the laptop about a witch practicing some sort of hoodoo magic in Wichita, Kansas (well, we've already established this is not a serious story) and Sam had been straining at the bit over this one.

"Look, before you start again, this could be a potentially serious case," Sam mumbled, leafing through their Dad's notebook. "Dad made notes about the Wichita witch, so if he thought there was something going on, well, that's good enough for me." He wasn't about to mention Rachel, especially after all the teasing he'd gotten the first time he'd mentioned her

"I never said a word, Sammy," Dean threw him a sideways look. "Don't go getting all defensive on me."

"Dude, you haven't said one damn word about any of it so how'm I supposed to know what you think." Sam shut the notebook with an audible snap.

"Are you asking me what I think, college boy?"

"Yes, I'm asking you what you think. What do you think?"

"Jeez, Sammy. Why can't you just say what you think, instead of just expecting me to guess?"

"Why do you have to moan all the time?" Sam stared out of his rain-streaked window, almost in a brooding sort of way.

"Bitch."

"Jerk."

And the Winchester world was right again.

Well, until lightening forked the sky and thunder boomed out of the darkness.

"Ok, that's it. We are stopping at the first motel we get to," Dean growled. "One more night ain't gonna make that much difference to the Wichita witch."

"Whatever, dude." Sam liked storms; he always felt they suited his nature. Moody. Melancholy. Morose.

'The Last Chance' loomed up in front of them. The bright gaudy lights of the motel cut through even the thickest of the rain. Without another word, Dan turned into the small parking lot, glancing at Sam's shaking head.

It appeared that the motel was aptly named just from the outside and Sam couldn't help but wonder just how bad the inside was. He was about to walk into a time warp.

"Dude, chalet 25," Dean danged the room key from his index finger, eyebrow arched. "This remind you of The Bates Motel, or is it just me?"

The keychain was at least three times bigger than the key itself, and shaped like a naked pin-up girl. Dean waggled it again and winked. Sam just groaned. They'd stayed in so many shitty motels than it was just run of the mill now.

Sam snatched the key from Dean's finger, taking great delight in twisting it just slightly – enough to make Dean wince. Grabbing his bag, and laptop, Sam headed off towards chalet 25. The place did kinda resemble the old Bates place from the original film.

On opening the door, both boys winced. The décor was circa 1972, and looked a group of frat boys had partied – and puked – in the room.

"Sweet," Dean muttered as he chose his bed. Blue nylon bed sheets and a brown velveteen head board. With Magic Fingers bed relaxation system. Classy. He looked longingly at it as though it were his favorite woman – or ride. He caressed the quarters that bulged in his jeans pocket lovingly.

Sam got the floral paisley bed with the green cord headboard. He rolled his eyes, dumped his bag and carefully placed his laptop of the small table by the window.

"Sam." Dean lay back on his bed. "Sammy!"

"Yeah?"

"You wanna go find us something to eat, Sammy?"

"Do I have a choice?" Sam rolled his eyes. "I really want to check out the site, see if there's been any updates."

"Well, Dude, you can do that just as well with food," he said, nodding and raising his eyebrows.

"Ok, ok, ok. I'm going. Keys…" he held out his hand for the Impala keys.

"Dude, what the f…" Dean scowled.

"You want food? I'm driving. I'm not getting wet just because you want food, so give me the keys."

"Sammy, you get a scratch on that baby and you'd better just hope that I don't catch you," Dean reluctantly handed over the Impala's keys.

Dean took his leather jacket off, dropping it on the floor – its ok cause Sam'll pick it up later – and found the remote for the TV. Lying back on the bed, he popped a quarter in the Magic Fingers box and let the vibrations relax him. Flicking through the TV channels, he was delighted to find a cheesy porn channel and they were showing some lame 80's film with big hair and shiny lycra. He shuddered involuntarily but carried on watching.

He was a little distracted lately by thoughts of Sammy. His interest in this Wichita witch was almost obsessive. His glance strayed slyly to the laptop sitting quietly on the table, and then back to the badly acted porn. But then the laptop drew his eye again and he reluctantly eased off the vibrating bed and ran his fingers across the silkily seductive cover of the computer.

Plugging it in to the mains, Dean switched it on and sat down to explore. Damn it, Sammy had the damn thing passworded. All because of the Busty Asian Babes fiasco. Switching it back off, he quickly put everything back and jumped onto the still-vibrating bed just as it stopped vibrating.

Popping another quarter in the slot machine, he lay back and concentrated on the porn film. He desperately needed to get laid soon, even Sammy was starting to look good.

"Ew!" A nasty taste filled Dean's mouth at the thought of screwing his brother. He hoped Sammy remembered beer.

Sam quickly found a 7-11 and pulled into the lot out front. Inside he grabbed a basket and chucked in chips and dips, ready made big boys, candy bars and a couple of six packs. He quickly paid for them and headed back to the lousy motel.

This was not a night to be out like this, he fumed quietly as he drove back. Since he'd passworded the laptop, he didn't have to worry about Dean surfing the porn sites again. Damn him, sometimes Sam wished he could be more like Dean, laidback and flirting all the time. And tonight? Tonight, he had just wanted to hop back onto the computer and 'chat' with Rachel.

Rachel. Rachel. Rachel.

He parked the Impala outside chalet 25, grabbed the bag of groceries and ran for the door. Stopping dead in the doorway, he was confronted by the sight of a vibrating Dean with his hand inside the open fly of his jeans.

"Awkward," he mumbled as Dean quickly fastened his pants and snapped off the movie all in one go.

"Coulda been more awkward if you'd been another ten minutes," Dean smirked. "Whatcha got there?"

"You can just go wash your hands before you come near me," Sam chuckled. A swift glance revealed his beloved laptop was where he had left it. He lowered the bag of food onto his bed and took his wet coat off, and picked up Dean's, hanging them both on the coat rack inside the door.

Popping open a beer and picking the best pre-packed big boy (steak and horseradish), Sam sat at the small table and plugged in the computer and switched it on. His email winked letting him know he had messages.

They were mostly bulletins from the Hellhound website, but there were a couple from Rachel. And those were the ones he was more interested in right now. But he wasn't about to open them with Dean lurking around.

Dean came out of the bathroom and sat on the bed, rummaging through the bag for food and smiling triumphant when he found chips and dip. Cracking open a beer, he swallowed half the beer in one go. The TV flipped on and Dean channel-hopped until he found some old mullet rock show.

"Anything good?" Dean asked, tipping his beer at the computer.

"A couple of new updates on the Hellhound site, but nothing much. Apart from the Wichita witch, everything seems to be fairly quiet lately."

"Anything from that Rachel-chick?" Dean gave his familiar little smirk another outing.

Sam sighed. Could he have no secrets from his brother? "As it happens, she has sent me an update." He opened the first email, and quickly scanned its contents. "Just saying they still need us there. Hinky things still happening. Strange symbols have been appearing carved into trees, animals disappearing. Normal kind of stuff associated with witches."

"Ahhh," Dean nodded, finishing off the bottle of beer. Paper rustled as he found his large ready made sandwich and hastily unwrapped it, eating as if his throat had been cut.

Sam opened up her second email and stared intently at the screen.

_Sam, come quickly. They know I'm onto them. I think I'm in danger. I need you. Rachel._

"Dude, we have to go now. Rachel's in danger." Sam jumped up; snapping shut the laptop and stuffing it into his bag, he grabbed his duffle bag and stood in the doorway.

"Dude, I'm eating. And it's like shit out there tonight." Dean scowled.

"Dude, now!"


	2. Chapter 2

Chapter 2:-

**Chapter 2:-**

(Ok, so this started out as a little bit of fun, a PWP…but it's a fanfic so I changed my mind and wanted to put some story into it. Hope you don't mind. There'll still be plenty o'smut to get your teeth into – but smut with story.)

**Wichita, Kansas:-**

"So, dude, do you have her address or what? We just gonna drive around until you spot her? Curious minds need to know," Dean growled. He was tired and more than a little fed up. He craved sleep like he normally craved sex.

"Of course I have her address." Sam rolled his eyes and rifled through his pockets for the slip of paper with Rachel's details on. "We gotta head towards Cheney Reservoir and Cheney State Park, look for Mt. Vernon. She lives in a farm roundabout there."

"Roundabout?" Dean's eyebrow shot up. "Gonna need to be a little more specific than that, bud."

"I will be, when we get there." He pulled a candy bar out from his jacket pocket, opened it and broke it half, offering the smallest half to Dean.

"Thanks Bro'," Dean smirked and took the half bar of Hershey's S'mores and shoved it in whole. "Listen Sammy, it's clear you don't wanna talk about this…and I don't do this touchy-feely stuff well…but you're gonna have to tell me about this Rachel-chick."

Sam made a sound that could either be described as a grunt or a moan before speaking. "Uhhh I know. It's just…well, you know…"

"You really like this chick." It was a statement not a question. "Well, as you never go out to pick up chicks, you must have met her on the internet. At least give me some background on her so I'm up to full speed."

"Ok, yeah. I met her on the internet. She runs a Wiccan website that I've used a couple of times for research. I emailed her about a hexing spell and well…" his voice tailed off as he cheeks colored.

"Damn, Sam, I was beginning to think maybe you were batting for the other side. This is music to my ears," Dean chuckled.

Sam just rolled his eyes and went back to staring out the window. "If you're just going to make fun of me, I'll leave you in the dark."

"No, bro…enlighten me, dude," Dean teased. "Seriously, Sammy, just tell me."

Sam sighed. Dean knew how much he hated being called Sammy but it made no difference. To Dean, he'll always be Sammy.

"K. We got chatting about hexing spells and so on…finally she admitted that she's part of coven with several of her friends…" he paused trying to find a term that wouldn't make Dean judge her. In his eyes a witch is a witch no matter what. "She's more into the Wiccan lore …not hexing the locals or selling curses over the internet."

"So she's all heathen and stuff?" Dean smirked. His tongue slowly slid out and moistened his lower lip.

Sam rolled his eyes again. "Anyway, some of the children in the town are plagued by some kind of mysterious illness, and Rachel and her friends have been trying to use their magic to find what's making them sick. Trouble is, they think there's another coven – a black coven – and it looks like they are onto Rachel and her friends."

"So, you get to play the Knight in Shining Armor. Sweet." Dean turned up he volume as the music launched into Metallica's 'One' and his face became unreadable as he mulled over the new info. This Rachel chick had a coven? That had to mean plenty of babes to choose from…maybe the threesome he drooled over could become a reality…

"So this is then?" Dean asked when they pulled up outside the unassuming farmhouse.

"According to the directions and the address she gave me, yeah." Sam shoved the scraps of paper back into his jacket pocket.

Dean walked up to the door and swung the screen door open and was about to knock on the door when he realized Sam hadn't moved a muscle and was still rooted to the same spot he'd been stood in for the last couple of minutes.

"Dude, you gonna get up here and ring this chick's bell or what?" Dean motioned a sweeping arc with his arms.

Sam was gnawing on the corner of his bottom lip, staring at the ground where the toe of his boot was carving an intricate pattern into the dust.

"Sam, get over here," Dean commanded, but Sam remained stubbornly where he was.

Dean marched back over to him, kicking up dust as he went. "Dude, what the hell is wrong with you?"

"I can't do this Dean. It's one thing talking to her on the internet, but it's another thing altogether being here."

"Ooooo kay." Dean cottoned on to what was _really_ wrong. Sam really liked this chick – and by like he meant had the hots for her. "Listen, Sammy, you had us drive 300 miles across country for this…be a shame to just get back in the car and drive away. And you said she needed out help. So…just march up to that door and knock. Thinking 'bout it's got to be a lot worse than doing it."

"You don't get it, Dean. I'm not like you. I don't need a notch on my belt for every job we do, or every town we go to…"

"Sammy, that hurts. No, really, that's just…just…well," Dean shrugged and a slow smirk crossed his features. "Yeah, I guess that kinda sums it up. But dude…" He motioned the door with another wide sweep of his arm.

"Ok, ok," Sam glared at his shorter, older, brother and took a step forward. Then another, and another. Until he came face to face with the screen door. It opened with a squeal and he tapped lightly on the wooden door behind it

Dean chuckled. "Man, that's _not_ a knock."

Sam gulped, once, twice, and then knocked louder.

No answer.

"Oh boy," Dean shook his head and came up beside Sam. "_This_ is a knock…"

No answer.

"Dude, this chick ain't in…" Dean started to say…but was stopped when the door swung open.

"Hey?"

Sam gulped again. "Hey…ummm, Sam…"

"Sam? Oh praise be. C'mon in," the girl smiled. "C'mon, I won't bite."

"Rachel?" His voice cracked slightly.

"Yeah …" she said in an almost apologetic tone of voice.

"I'm Dean, by the way," he called out from behind Sam's back. "It'd probably be nice to meet if this doofus ever moves out the way."

Rachel laughed softly and boldly took hold of Sam's lapels and tugged him into the hallway. "Hey to both of you. Now, c'mon in and I'll get you something to drink. I bet it's been one heck a drive?"

Sam stood looking mutely at Rachel. His mouth had dropped open giving him a goofy expression. She wasn't at all what he had been expecting, not that he was _actually_ sure what he'd been expecting. She'd described herself accurately though. Short. Dark hair. Green eyes. Freckles.

'Cept she looked so much better than he'd been picturing, and now it felt as though all the blood had rushed south and his legs had rooted. He tried to swallow away the heat that was coursing through his body when Dean coughed beside him, grinning like an ass.

"Sam, move it." Dean rolled his eyes and gave him a nudge to follow her down the hall to where light spilled onto the floor through an open door.

Soon, they were sat down around the kitchen table, tucking into the first home cooked meal they'd had in forever and drinking hot fresh coffee while she gave them the quick run-down on what had been happening.


	3. Chapter 3

Chapter 3:-

**Chapter 3:-**

_**(if you're looking for a story full of literary wisdom and spiritual enlightenment, this isn't the story for you. Don't leave a nasty comment if you don't like it – you're only making yourself look bad, not me. Fanfics are for fun only, and not to be taken seriously)**_

"Hello, boys." Sam and Dean were sat enjoying freshly baked apple pie and ice cream when a deep, raspy voice almost had them choking on their food.

"Dad?" Dean mumbled. "Can't be…"

But Sam, sitting opposite him, was nodding with his mouth wide open.

"Boys," John said again as he came into the kitchen fully. Two brown paper bags full of groceries filled his arms.

"Dad." Dean repeated, pushing his chair away and standing. For once, his pie was forgotten, abandoned. "Dad?"

Sam stood and moved to stand by his brother. "What's going on?" He was looking from Rachel to his dad to Dean – who mirrored his own puzzled expression.

Rachel moved to make way for John to put the bags down on the counter. "Thanks John, really appreciate the help," she mumbled. She was biting her lip nervously and shuffling her feet. "Ok, ok, getting you here was kind of a ruse," she gushed, timidly. "It was your father's idea, not mine. I wanted to tell you the truth but he said you'd come quicker if you thought there was a case…well, there is a case and all but…but…just not what you think…and…and…"

John took Rachel by the shoulders and smiled down at her. "It's ok Rachel, calm down honey. Why don't you make us all some fresh coffee while I explain to the boys what's really going on."

Rachel nodded and set about her task. The testosterone was thickening the air in the kitchen and she was glad when John took them outside. She needed a little more estrogen about the place, so she grabbed the phone and called up her friend, Amy, and invited her over for dinner. Along with Tareena who helped her with the farm and lived at the farmhouse with her, the three of them should be able to even out the mix a little.

"Don't blame Rachel for this," John told his boys when they were outside. "I made her do it. Once I found out she knew you through the website, I had her contact you and give you some hokum story."

Sam spoke up, "But why? I mean, why not just ring us and ask us to come down? Why all this making up stories, getting other people involved?"

"Yeah. C'mon dad, what the hell's going on?" Dean asked, getting in John's face.

John faced both boys with a look that made them back off slightly. "It's not safe for me to use my cell. I thought about one of those internet café's, but I'm not sure that's safe either. Listen, it's a long story and it's probably going to come out a little jumbled. I knew Rachel's parents a long time ago, before they disappeared mysteriously. I was passing through her a couple of weeks ago when I ran into her in the general store. We got chatting and she said, well, that she was sure there was something going on in town that she and her friend's couldn't handle alone."

"And?" Dean prompted.

"She mentioned these two men-" John chuckled at the term, "-who could help. Of course, once she showed me the site and I realized who she meant, I encouraged her to make up some tale to get you down here."

"What happened to Rachel's parents?" Sam asked.

"They were hunting the demon we're going to be hunting when they vanished. The thing is Rachel's eldest sister went missing when she was three years old. Every year, for the last –well, for as far back as we've been able to trace using what into we can find, one three-year old child has gone missing. Rachel's parents had been close to the truth when they just upped and disappeared without a trace."

"And this demon?" Dean interrupted. "Do you have any clue what it is, and when it's going to strike again? And how long have you been here? I have about a million questions, dad…"

"It's ok, Dean," John pulled his son towards him and hugged him tightly, reaching out a hand to ruffle Sam's hair before pulling him in for a hug too. "I'll answer everything in time, but right now, I – we – need your help."

"But…" Dean started but he was interrupted by John.

"Later Dean, let's just catch up, I haven't seen you both for months. We have at least a month before the demon's supposed to strike again. And there's someone I want you to meet first."

Sam and Dean exchanged glances. Their dad was no saint. They'd never even contemplated that he was…but the very fact that he wanted them to meet someone sounded ominous.

"Come on; let's see if Rachel's made her world famous coffee yet." John grinned, obviously lost in other thoughts as he walked back into the farmhouse.

"What have we walked into, Dean?" Sam asked, staring after his father.

"I've got no idea Sammy, but the Twilight Zone music is running through my mind right about now." Dean smirked, humming it as he followed his dad into the house.

Sam pushed off the fence and followed them both. His head hurt from everything that was going on…the only good thing was meeting his dad here, and Rachel.

She was still biting her lip nervously when he came back into the kitchen. "I'm really sorry Sam," she said softly as she offered him a mug of coffee.

Sam accepted the mug and came to stand beside her, leaning his long frame against the worktops. "It's ok. Dad wouldn't have done this if he hadn't needed us, and there's still a case for us when all's said and done."

"Your dad said you'd be understanding, though I still expected you to be mad at me." Her voice was so small he could barely hear her over the din his dad and his brother were making at the table.

"I'm a bit surprised, but I'm not mad." To be honest, from the moment he'd laid eyes on her, he had a feeling Rachel was going to be nothing but trouble…and he wasn't going to mind one single little bit. "To be honest, not much _does_ surprise me any more."

"That's probably good, considering half the stuff that goes on around here," she half giggled. "I have a couple of rooms upstairs for you and your brother…unless you'd rather stay at the local hotel with your dad…"

"Here's fine," he answered quickly, fearing she might talk him out of staying at the farmhouse.

"Ok," she giggled again. "If you like, I'll show you where they are and then you can both get cleaned up and rest awhile. We usually have dinner around seven-ish once most of the animals have been seen to."

"We?" Sam's curiosity won out, as usual.

"Me, and Tareena. She lives here with me, and basically, she's the one who looks after the animals. She'll be joining us for dinner." Rachel explained to Sam. "You'll come for dinner, won't you, John? Amy's coming over too."

John let out a hearty chuckle. "Well, I guess I will then. Seeing as Amy's coming over."

Sam and Dean both stared at him, open-mouthed, brows raised questioningly.

"My sparring partner," John explained, still laughing. "You'll see when she gets here." As if that explained everything. "Listen, you boys get settled in here…I have a couple of things I need to see someone about and I'll be back here later for dinner."

Dean stood at the same time as his father and followed him out of the farmhouse, watching as he circled the Impala with a thoughtful look. "It wouldn't kill you to take better care of the Impala you know. There's rust spots on the wheel arches. Make sure you get 'em fixed before too long."

"Yes sir." Dean smirked. Now _that_ was more like his dad.


End file.
